


Unpredictable

by HonoRin



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/F, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rebirth, no regerts teehee, storm chapter, suffer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonoRin/pseuds/HonoRin
Summary: "You killed him."A pause."I know.""Fix it."In which everyone is reborn in modern day New York with no memory of their past lives, Aaron Burr gets a second chance to make the right decision, and Alexander learns the true meaning of, 'Talk less, smile more.' But there are always obstacles in these situations. Maybe, this time around, Aaron will take his shot;And nobody gets hurt.





	1. Click

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back from my rather unexpected hiatus. Speaking of which, until I get back into Uta No Prince-Sama and Love Live and get inspired again, I have put my crossover fic on hiatus.  
> Anyway, the main idea for this story was bouncing around in my head, so now I'm typing it out. I hope you all like it and keep up as it gets updated. I'll probably post chapters randomly and/or in bunches. But I will TRY to update on some sort of schedule.
> 
> Now, without further ado, read on!

_‘July 11, 1804’_  
_I am leaving at dawn to duel Alexander. I feel rather strange holding a pistol after so many years. I may be making a fatal mistake in attending. Hamilton is a highly skilled marksman, whereas I could attempt to shoot a dead horse and miss. If I perish, my daughter will be orphaned, just as I was. This is unacceptable, but I must defend my honor. Yet, I hope our awaited duel is settled by our seconds. Hamilton is something of a friend to me, and I’d feel horrible if I even managed to graze him with my bullet. But, I will surely perish at his hand. My sweet daughter, Theodosia; should you find this, I will have been shot dead. I love you as much as I loved your mother._  
_-A. Burr_

The pale skinned male closed his little black book and placed his quill down on the cover. With a heavy sigh, he looked out of the window. The sky was still dark, but that would only last so long. Aaron stood and stretched his arms, turning and sauntering over to his bed, climbing in and settling under the blanket.

As he drifted off, thoughts of his wife, daughter, and grandson filled his head.

 

* * *

 

Dawn; when the sun begins to rise and hails a new day of hope. That was not the case this time. This time, a redhead from the Caribbean was standing back to back with his New Jersey born adversary. The peace talks had failed, and now the seconds--Nathaniel Pendleton and William P. Van Ness-- stood together, both taking in silent breaths. With barely audible exhales, the two shared a glanced before beginning the countdown. Thoughts rushed through Aaron’s and Alexander’s heads.

10  
_‘Is this what we have come to?’_  
**‘My first friend…’**  
9  
_‘We could have been friends.’_  
**‘I thought we were close.’**  
8  
_‘He is surely cursing my name.’_  
**‘I wish he did not hate me so.’**  
7  
_‘The end of my existence is near.’_  
**‘He’ll kill me.’**  
6  
_‘I wish I might walk away.’_  
**‘I’ll not harm him.’**  
5  
_‘Perhaps he’ll miss or graze me.’_  
**‘He could very well miss.’**  
4  
_‘He has what I’ve wanted for an eternity.’_  
**‘What have I done to trouble him? ’**  
3  
_‘Theodosia, I shall live for you.’_  
**‘My love, Elizabeth, I shall not return this day.’**  
2  
_‘I refuse to die.’_  
**‘Eyes up.’**  
1  
_‘Do not hesitate.’_  
**‘Raise a glass to freedom.’**

Two gunshots.

_“WAIT!”_

 

* * *

 

“You killed him.”

A pause.

_“I know.”_

“Fix it.”

 

* * *

 

A chocolate skinned teenager woke with a start, sweat on his brow. “Who? _Who_ did I kill?” he asked himself in a whisper. Ever since Aaron turned 15, the same nightmare plagued his sleep. It was always the same, nothing ever changed. A countdown from ten, two gunshots, and someone screaming, ‘wait’. Sleeping quickly became the worst part of the now 17 year old’s day.

Glancing over at the clock on his bedside table, he frowned. It was 5:59, and he was going to need that extra minute of sleep. As soon as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the clock began beeping. Aaron hit the snooze button and let out a heavy sigh, standing up and shuffling over to his dresser to pick out something. After about three minutes of looking, he decided on blue jeans, a white button down shirt, and a beige sweater vest. He laid his clothes out on his bed and stripped down, tossing his night clothes into the hamper and getting into the shower. The cold water hit his skin, effectively waking him up. “Shit, that’s cold!” he yelped, jumping a little.

After his ten minute shower, Aaron dried off, grabbed a pair of boxers, and slipped them on. He quickly dressed himself and grabbed his grey messenger bag, putting the strap over his head. When it was comfortably on his shoulder, he slipped his black oxfords on.

Gotta dress the part when you attend Juilliard, right?


	2. Pianos and Pencils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you write this?"
> 
> "Who's asking?"
> 
> "I am."
> 
>  
> 
> Making friends on the first day at a nationally renowned school for the arts isn't easy. Especially if the first friend you make is the man you killed 214 years ago. Not that Aaron remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's me. I updated a story within a week! I was going to post this yesterday or two days ago, but I was busy. Anyway, read on!

As soon as Aaron opened the doors of Juilliard, he was met with a crowd of people. Of course people were flooding the hallways, the first day was just starting and everyone was mingling. When the chocolate skinned boy overheard that they’d have the first hour and a half to themselves, he made his way to one of the many instrument filled classrooms and sat down on a piano bench.

With an inaudible sigh, Aaron looked around. The room was empty, and that was all he needed. He opened his bag and pulled out a navy blue folder, taking out a few sheets of staff paper and placing them on the little stand just above the keys of the sleek and black grand piano. In a quick movement, Aaron pulled out a pencil and tucked it behind his left ear.

He raised his hands and positioned his fingers over the polished piano keys, easily beginning to play. The song was unheard of, original, and full of lies. Aaron always made his songs upbeat, never faltering. Yet, his pain was always there; in his heart, and at the tip of his tongue. Lyrics had been bouncing around in the young male’s head for a long while. If he were to put those painful words to the music he wrote, he’d surely be seen as unconventional, maybe even strange.

_ ‘One day, there’ll be words. Happy ones, just slightly untrue.’ _ Aaron thought to himself. He continued to play and write as he went, not forgetting to scribble his initials on each sheet of music.

* * *

 

Time passed, and the young pianist’s phone buzzed, making him jump. He’d forgotten that he’d set an alarm for class. Aaron checked the time and internally groaned. The time on his phone screen read, 9:15 as he scrambled to put his materials away, knocking his pencil from behind his ear. He hadn’t noticed it and shut his folder, shoving it back into his bag and scurrying out of the room. Aaron had been in such a hurry to get to his class on time, he’d left a sheet and his pencil on the floor.

 

* * *

 

At 9:30, class started; and a 16 year old boy with shoulder-length brown hair and sunkissed skin was absentmindedly strumming an acoustic guitar. He was good, and he knew that, but he usually ended up getting so caught up in the music, he would forget the rest of the world existed. “Alexander!” a deep voice bellowed. The Caribbean born male snapped out of his own world and looked up at a tall man, whom was standing just a few inches away from him, tapping his foot in annoyance. “Sorry, Professor Washington…” Alexander sheepishly apologized. Said professor sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve heard about your skills from your former teachers, and I’m impressed with it all. But you’ve got to add the ability to pay attention to that skill set.” he gently scolded. “Yes sir.” was his respectful response.

 

Fifty minutes had passed and Washington allowed the class the last ten minutes to mingle. Alexander gravitated to a tall boy with dark skin and short curly hair. “Now, ladies and gentleman, Hercules Mulligan on the flute!” he loudly presented, dragging a snort from the said boy, and a fit of giggles from a few random people. “You should have taken theater, you dramatic ass.” Hercules responded. “Also, I play the flute like a boss, thank you very much.” he said proudly.

 

Alexander smiled and lightly punched his tall friend on his bicep. “I know, I know.” he said, turning on his heel. It was only after a few steps, that he stepped on a pencil, causing it to roll and he fell backwards, landing on his backside rather hard. “Ow!” he exclaimed, frowning as the class snickered. An embarrassed blush attacked his face as he stood, crouching down to pick up the pencil he’d tripped on. As Alexander rose, he caught sight of a piece of paper under the piano. He lied on his stomach and reached under the large instrument, sliding the paper out enough for him to grasp it with his whole hand. The 16 year old stood up and dusted himself off, shaking the dust off of the paper. He turned it over and saw two letters, initials.  _ ‘A.B’ _ .

* * *

 

When class ended, Aaron was close to running down the hallway. “Shit, shit, shit!” he cursed semi-quietly, arriving at the classroom he’d left his sheet music in. He nearly threw open the door, running directly into another person. The impact sent them both a few steps back from each other with pained groans. “Sorry about that.” Aaron apologized. “It’s fine, I was kinda rushing.” came the response. Aaron looked at the other person and blinked. “You have this class first period?” he asked, hoping he’d seen his music. The other nodded and blew his hair out of his face. “Yeah, oh, name’s Alexander. Alexander Hamilton. Y’know, the guy on the ten dollar bill? He was actually--” Alexander began to rant and Aaron cut him off. “I know who Hamilton was. I have the same name of the man that shot him.” Alexander’s eyes widened and his face lit up like a Roman candle firework. “Cool!” he paused for a moment. “Wait...Aaron Burr...I think you might need this.” he said, holding up a pencil and a sheet of paper covered in music notes and initials scribbled on the bottom left corner. “Did you write this?” he asked. Aaron crossed his arms. “Who’s asking?” he inquired, somewhat defensively. “I am.” was the Alexander’s reply.

The chocolate skinned boy sighed. “Yes, I wrote it. May I have it back now?” he asked, now slightly annoyed. The shorter male paused in thought for a moment before snapping his fingers and smiling. “Is your next class Dramatic Interpretation one?” he asked. “Awfully specific and a little suspicious, but yes.” Aaron responded. Alexander grinned like someone had just grabbed the sun out of the sky and put it on his face. He handed the paper back to the taller boy and turned on his heel, walking off down the hall, leaving with a bubbly and loud, “See you then!”

 

“He took my pencil. A ball of energy and sunshine in a human form took my pencil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I'll update again soon! This is gonna be a nice, long, and soothing slowburn.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Please give any commentary you'd like, criticism is welcome. Remember, I can't pump out a bunch of chapters at once. It takes a while to write and edit.


End file.
